


The New Crew

by Jasper Kirby (blakesaregrates)



Series: The New Series [2]
Category: Starkid, Starkid Productions, Starship - Team StarKid, Team Starkid - Fandom
Genre: AU, Gen, Oh look, Oops, Post-Canon, and also a friend insert, it's another self insert, lots of minor ocs - Freeform, post-canon AU, starship AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 10:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14399760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakesaregrates/pseuds/Jasper%20Kirby
Summary: After a horrific mission gone wrong, Fletcher is left without a crew and without much hope. His injuries reawoken and his confidence smashed, how will he cope with getting a new crew, and more importantly, a new roommate?





	1. The New Crew

**Author's Note:**

> The Starship Universe, the plot of Starship, all characters from Starship and anything resembling that of the musical Starship is all owned by Team Starkid. I only own the plot of this series, and the OC characters. 
> 
> Dedicated to Erin.

Fletcher awoke to aches, pains, and a beeping holograph screen. Pushing himself up with his good arm, he pressed the button on the wall to open the message. 

‘Ensign Holland, your new crew is being appointed. Expect your new roommate within the hour. Your new Commander is currently being recruited and you shall be alerted to whom it is within a day or two. Regards, Captain Franklin.’

Groaning, Fletcher let himself fall back onto the thin mattress, throwing his arm over his eyes. When he finally managed to push himself up into a sitting position, he cast a quick glance around the empty room, a chill running up his spine. He had to at least be thankful it hadn’t been his first mission. 

In an attempt not to dwell on the matter, Fletcher managed to ease himself into the shower and get changed into fresh leisure uniform before the knock on the door echoed throughout the room. Figuring this was it, he pressed the button on his access remote to open the door.

He kept his back turned, not ready to accept the sight of someone carrying their luggage and clean sheets for a bed that still, in his twisted mind, belonged to a dead man.

“Um, hi? I’m your new roommate, I suppose. And your new crew member too. It’s...nice to meet you?”

Fletcher supposed there was no more putting it off. It had been over a month. He had to move on. He eased himself off the bed and stood straight before turning around and meeting his new peer. 

She seemed just as surprised as him that she was a girl (or, rather, that he was not). 

As he was trained to, he did a quick scope of the potential (but very unlikely) threat. She held herself like a true soldier, strong and proud, yet she had an air about her that put him at ease. She stood a little taller than him, slight and slender much like himself, with sunshine blonde hair that was styled into two plaits down her head - a few loose strands framing her face revealed it was quite curly. 

Looking back up to her face, he caught her eyes appearing to roam over him too. Once their eyes met again, she moved her sheets to her left arm and offered him a handshake. “Ensign Emily-Jane Blackhurst, but that’s a mouthful - people call me EJ,” she introduced herself with a smile. He shook her hand firmly like his mentor had taught him.

“Ensign Fletcher Holland. Just Fletcher, though,” he added as an afterthought: being roommates went beyond addressing ranks.

He was holding the handshake for just long enough that it felt awkward before he noticed, quickly drawing his hand back like he’d been burned. Wiping his hand against his leg, he coughed to clear the weird feeling in his throat as he sidestepped to let her get to the bed - her bed, it was her bed now.

Unfortunately for Fletcher, he turned around a little too forcefully on his way to the bathroom, and his left leg buckled and practically screamed at him. He grimaced but bit back a groan, limping to the bathroom and rummaging around for his painkillers. Knocking two back dry, he coughed before cupping some water in his hand and sipping it to ease the scratching. Praying to a dead God that he hadn’t actually done damage, he ran a hand over his face and stared at his reflection for a brief moment before finally deciding to face the new girl properly.

She was making the bed when he left the bathroom, the door sliding shut behind him. Her bags were untouched, on the floor by her feet. “This wardrobe is yours,” he said, helpfully gesturing to the one he was talking about. EJ turned, a pillow in her hand as she stuffed it into the pillowcase. She smiled, nodding her appreciation.

“Thanks; are these drawers mine too?” 

“Yep, and the second shelf in the bathroom.” 

Stretching the sheets over the thin mattress, EJ flashed a smile over her shoulder at him. “Thanks, Fletcher.”

The boy in question cursed himself for being so awkward, having to look away. He knew he would be no help to the girl - his mobility was still down by 30%, and he had never been good at keeping up conversations with strangers. So instead, he grabbed a grey G.L.E.E hoodie and hobbled out of the room, letting the metallic doors slide shut behind him as his shoulders sagged.

He truly was terrible at first meetings.


	2. The New Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fletcher goes to the gym to blow off some steam, and his injuries are getting better. His mood, however, is still as sour as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own much, see the disclaimer in Chapter One (Team Starkid own me).
> 
> Dedicated to Erin.

Apparently, the Captain had designated him and his crewmates to a Commander and Lieutenant who weren’t even on the ship. Without dropping names, the message he’d received had basically said that the two were still on a mission and it was hit or miss whether they would return, but rest assured that if they did, they would be in control of the ‘orphaned’ crew (so to speak). So much for a “day or two”.

Rather annoyed at this revelation, Fletcher stopped off at the gym on the way back from his physio session with Dr Harper to blow off some steam (a habit he had picked up from an old friend). Knowing not to put too much strain on his ‘prosthetics’, he headed straight to the pull-up bar, since that was what he’d been doing with the doctor.

Shedding his jacket, he stretched his shoulders and upper back before stepping up to the bar. With both hands securely in place, he began to do rep after rep.

The sweat was just starting to drip from Fletcher’s face when the door to the nearly-empty gym opened, and two eyes caught his in the huge mirror, mid-rep. He relaxed, hanging from the bar as he nodded at his new roommate, silently revelling in the shocked admiration in her eyes. He made to turn and look at EJ but ended up twisting his sore arm and dropping to the floor, massaging his shoulder.

“Uh, hey, good to see you?” 

She smiled in response, dropping her own jacket next to his. “Yeah, it is. Thought you’d already had enough of me.” The teasing glint in her eyes set him at ease, and Fletcher found himself smiling back. 

He turned back to the pull-up bar, still looking at her in the mirror. “I’m an early riser by nature, I guess,” he offered with a shrug, jumping back up to the bar. He does 5 reps before his elbow gives way and he has to drop back down, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. Luckily for him (or rather, his pride), EJ is face down on the mat as she does press-ups. 

After searching for another bar, Fletcher slots it in the bottom of the frame and tucks his feet under it to do some sit-ups, then some crunches. He positions his butt on the mat next to EJ and crosses his arms over his chest to save his arm the extra ache, beginning his routine. He’s on his third set when he sees EJ sit up out of the corner of his eye. He watches her in the mirror as she sits on her knees, letting her hair down and then tying it up again. 

In the split second that it’s down, Fletcher manages to see how curly and mesmerising it really is. They seem painfully familiar and he gets a stab in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a long time. EJ looks up at the mirror to check her hair and their eyes meet, making Fletcher turn away quickly as he’s caught staring. He’s back at his sit-ups, eyes closed as he restarts his routine. EJ doesn’t ask, and he doesn’t look at her again until he’s done.

Left leg trembling with exertion, he snatches his hoodie from beside him and gives his new crewmate a brief nod before limping from the room, intent on showering and getting some sleep before mess hall. The blinding smile she gives him almost makes him fall to the floor.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Almost a week passes. Fletcher and EJ hardly talk.

That’s Fletcher’s fault, down right. EJ does her best to start conversations, but he just brushes her off with grunts, blunt one-word answers or simple excuses to leave the room. 

They haven’t had any word on their new Commander and Lieutenant, nor has Fletcher made any attempt to socialise with his other crew members besides EJ. (According to her, they’re all really nice and friendly.)

Fletcher has been in a foul mood since his last mission, and who could blame him? He was one of two sole survivors from a group of friends, actual, dear friends. He returned, bloody and broken, in the hopes of being reunited with his old friends who had gone on their own mission, only to be told they were MIA with no recent contact and presumed missing, if not dead. How was he supposed to keep smiling? 

And there was just something about EJ. Something that made him want to hug her and vomit at the same time. A pang in his chest, a violent roll of the stomach, a tremor through his limbs - and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what the issue was. 

Fletcher’s days had become repetitive and monotonous: wake up at 6, eat breakfast alone, get to his physio session at 7, go to the gym on his way back, shower, sleep, eat again, then do his stretches before bed.

By the end of his first week as part of a full crew again, his mobility was back up to 90%, due to his sheer dedication working with Dr Harper, who praised him daily. She tells him, “Up would be proud of you.”

“He will be,” he corrects her on his way out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one - I contemplated posting it as two separate chapters but that would've been way too short. It will pick up eventually, I wrote all of this today after breaking through my writer's block. Comments are appreciated, whether you love it or hate it.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm aware that I've written more for Part 2 of this series than Part 1, but I can't help where my inspiration comes and goes. Please let me know how you feel about this, also I have more of a plot outline for this one, with another chapter to be added as of right now. Again, I heavily suggest you go read Learning to Dance, as that's one of the main reasons I feel like I can do this.
> 
> This is short, but I wanted to keep it separate from the next chapter. Hopefully the chapters will get longer as I add more interesting plot points, but I'm still happy with this.


End file.
